Dradikar And The Wolfmen
by Legolas The Archer
Summary: Dradikar goes on an epic journey after loses his hometown to the Orcs.


The King sat on his golden chair in the middle of a giant hall, tapping the bright yellow arm of his throne impatiently. The King had dark brown hair with a beard and deep brown eyes. His clothes were not clothes at all, but plated green and yellow armour. His cape was flung across the top of his elegant throne, shining bright blue in the light. The hall was rowed with dozens of golden seats with red cushions and other little accessories' which made them look as elegant as the King's throne. Down the middle a giant, long red carpet ran straight down the hall up to a few stairs that went up to the King's chair. At the far end of the hall, a giant, wooden door towered above all things, clearly the entry to the magnificent place.

Suddenly, the massive door flung wide, opening up a portal of white light which made the king have to cover his eyes with his hands. In the midst of all the gleaming light, a shadow figure stood in the middle of the two doorways. The King looked relieved to see this.

"Approach." The King instructed, his eyes full of excitement. The figure paced down the hallway in the light, his shadow following his footsteps, nearly reaching the far wall. As he came into view from all the glittery light, the King could see the figure of a warrior. He was wearing blue armour with black lining throughout the plate body. He was not wearing a helmet, so his light brown hair could be seen striking backwards past the back of his head. His cape was a brilliant shining red. As he finally reached the last pace towards the King just before the small row of stairs, he bowed his head down for a moment, then looked up straight into the King's eyes.

"Ah, there you are, Dradikar." The King beams. "Where were you?" Dradikar looks down under his cape, pulls it aside and draws his sword from his skabeth. The sword looks neatly crafted, the hilt lined with green and red gems that shone like mirrors in the sunlight. As the King looked closer at the sword, he could make out a stain of blood.

"Thieves." Dradikar explains in a boring way as he slides his sword back down into his skabeth. The King looks up in admiration. "You are a fine warrior, Dradikar." He says in a proud tone. "But you must learn that you can not do everything on your own." Dradikar coughs and looks back up to the King. "I know that." He explains. The King looks at him, puzzled. "Dradikar, you always insist on doing things yourself. You must learn to work with others." The King bellows. "When i listen to that it always results in lives being lost." He explains again. The King looks away, shaking his head. "You were born with fine talent, boy--" "Would you please not call me that." Dradikar interrupts suddenly. The King's mouth makes a tight line on his face as he opens his mouth to speak again; "Fine, you were born with fine talent, _Dradikar_, but you must lean the lesson of teamwor--" "And you must learn to listen to me!" Dradikar yells. "One of these days, _You'll_ learn that I can be trusted!" He yells. The King looks at him sternly, with no sign of admiration anywhere now. " If you want to do everything yourself, you will not gain the position of leader for the upcoming battle. You will be _forced_ to stay at the back line." "Bu-bu--" "No buts." The King roars. Dradikar turns away in disgust and strides back towards the giant door, cursing under his breath as he walks out of it into the town.

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"The time has come!" The King roars. "To fight of those accursed Orcs!" Cries come up from the crowd gathered in the town center. "We will triumph!" Once again, cries of agreement burst from the gathered crowd.

The crowd of warriors has gathered on Brimstone hill, where most of Brimstone towns previous battles were fought. It is getting dark. "They will come men, the Orcs have an annoying habit of attacking at nightfall." The King reminds his army. Dradikar sits down at the back of the army, eating the small amount of supplies he was given like everybody else. Other people in the front line were setting up campfires and eating, others were mounting on their horses. They are coming, he thought. I can feel it, they are close.

Suddenly, from nowhere, his senses realised something. He twisted round, examining the exact opposite side the army was facing. Orcs, they are attacking from behind, he thought. "Everybody! Look behind! They are attacking from behind!" Dradikar warned hurriedly. "Pay no attention to him, he is lying." Some said. other said things like; "Liar. You want us all to die!" Dradikar looked in amazement. "Trust me! You must!" He roared. The Orcs were now in clear view to him. There hideous, wart-covered pale green skin raised the hairs on his neck. There massive sledge hammers made strong heart become filled with fear to think of what it would feel like to be pounded into the ground by them. There tight faces with small black, beady eyes filled him with dread. The tusks sticking out from their mouths made his skin crawl. These, no doubt, where the strongest, most bloodthirsty, warrior-type living beings that nobody but warriors dared to talk about, the Orcs.

The Orcs raised their bows. They loaded their wooden arrows into their bows, stretching the bow strings back, closing one eye while they did this. Suddenly, all the arrows from every single bow the Orcs had shot up into the air, flying against the dark sky like rain, pelting down and hitting the warriors with the force of a thousand swords.

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Around Dradikar, bodies lay dead on the ground. Blood was splattered everywhere. Flames were ignited here and there from the Orcs second attack of flaming arrows. In Dradikar's arms, the King lay dying. Tears sprang into Dradikar's eyes. Suddenly Dradikar heard footsteps. The Orcs are coming up the mountain, he thought. He rushed away from the mountain into the forest on the far side of Brimstone Town. Even with Dradikar's injured leg, he would not give up the King's life.

Dradikar laid the dying man down on the ground. The King slowly opened his eyes and looked into Dradikar's. "I-I-I should've listened to you." He stammers. "Dradikar," The King puts his hand on Dradikar's chest. "Y-y-you were righ--" His eyes close. Tears run down Dradikar's face.


End file.
